


Everything

by WinnieTherPooh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Tears, mentions of AIDA - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22107940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinnieTherPooh/pseuds/WinnieTherPooh
Summary: Jemma tries to reconcile the Doctor of the Framework with her Fitz. Set immediately post-Framework (in a world where the space adventure doesn't happen, or at least doesn't begin right away).
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 1
Kudos: 48





	Everything

Jemma lay as still as she could on the edge of the hotel bed, forcing herself to hold back tears. She knew Fitz was still awake, propped up in the wildly uncomfortable chair by the window. He had refused her offer of sharing the bed, and Jemma felt almost guilty at the relief she felt. She couldn’t. Not yet. 

She stifled her own breathing, and she could still hear Fitz’s shaking breaths on the other side of the room. Would he ever fall asleep? Could any of them fall asleep again?

Jemma squeezed her eyes shut, and the images she had been hiding from all day rushed back to the forefront of her mind. 

Fitz, killing Agnes. No, that wasn’t right.  _ The Doctor _ , killing Agnes with Fitz’s face. 

Daisy, broken at Fitz’s hands. No,  _ The Doctor _ , breaking Daisy with Fitz’s hand. 

Fitz, threatening her with a gun and demanding that she forget him. No,  _ the Doctor _ , stealing and warping Fitz’s voice. 

He was still her Fitz. 

Jemma’s gut wrenched and she thought she was going to be sick. It was all too much, too many conflicting sides. The tears she had fought back finally overwhelmed her, running down her cheeks even as she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them back. A sob burst out, and she clapped her hand over her mouth, twisting into a fetal position, willing the sound to return to her throat. No such luck. 

She heard Fitz stir, and then stand up. 

When she opened her eyes, he was standing beside the bed, awkward and uncertain. 

“Jemma?” His voice cracked. “Jemma, please.” He reached out and put a hand on her leg under the blanket. On her knee. And then, without realizing that she had done it, Jemma flinched.

Fitz pulled his hand back as if he had been burned, stumbling back away from her. 

The tears that Jemma had held back rushed out now, unhindered. She was sobbing into her pillow, almost screaming out the pain that had been tormenting her since they left the framework.

“I’m sorry, Jemma. God, I’m so sorry.” He was crying too, although she couldn’t see through the haze of tears. 

She got up, pushing past him into the bathroom, barely shutting the door and making it to the toilet before she was sick. 

Everything was spinning in front of her: the confusion of the Framework, the conflicting memories of her Fitz and the twisted form of the Doctor. Alistair Fitz’s face came to her mind, the coldness and the cruelty that had reflected back into the Framework version of his son. The sickening admiration that Fitz had held for his father. Fitz- she knew he was outside the bathroom door. He didn’t deserve this. This wasn’t-couldn’t be his fault. It was AIDA, manipulating and twisting him into a shriveled, deadened version of himself. AIDA, who had succeeded in driving them apart in reality just as she had in the Framework. Jemma bent over the toilet, the bile she choked up less painful than the memories of the past few days. 

When the vomiting stopped, Jemma found a way to her feet and stood in front of the mirror. She could almost laugh at the wreck she was- her eyes red with tears, hair a mess, breath still coming in rapid gasps. There was a bump from outside the door, and she realized that Fitz had sat down against it. She could see just the edge of his shirt under the door. She couldn’t see him yet, she knew that. And yet- Jemma splashed some water on her face, wiping away the panic from a few minutes before with cold water. 

“Fitz? I’m going to open the door.” She could hear him move away.

When she opened the door, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, refusing to look up at her.

“I know-” he started hesitantly, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Jemma. But I’m sorry. For touching you. For the Doctor. For everything.” 

Jemma sat next to him on the bed, the two of them staring into the nothingness of the door. “Do we get through this, Fitz?”

They were quiet again. Fitz made a sniffing sound, and almost spoke before lapsing back into silence. The clock beside the bed blinked to 2:35. “I want to believe we do.” 

“Me too.” Jemma reached out for Fitz’s hand, and he grabbed it immediately.

“Your hands are freezing, Jemma.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Fitz looked up at the ceiling and almost laughed. “God knows you don’t need to apologize.” She thought he might be crying again. They both were, sitting there on the bed in the dark, holding hands. 

“You’re not him.” Jemma said suddenly. “And I won’t let him- let her- take this away from us.”

“What?” She could still hear defeat in his voice.

“This. Us. You could have been the Doctor, but you’re not. You’re  _ my  _ Fitz, you’re  _ my  _ everything. And you are kind and funny and brave and wonderful, and she can’t take that away from us.” Jemma could feel herself getting worked up again. “And she might have created a different past but she will not steal our futures, and our happiness and our Christmases and all our plans that we had made. I refuse to allow it.” 

“Okay.” Fitz whispered. “I couldn’t blame you, you know, if you left. After what I did.” He continued over Jemma’s protest. “Because it was my technology, and if I had just let it lie then none of this would have happened. I’ll believe you, that I’m not him, but I have to take responsibility for me.” 

“Just for you. Just take responsibility for you, not for the Doctor.” Jemma shook her head. “I can’t explain why, it’s just- if you apologize for him, then I can’t keep you separate from him in my head.” 

“Okay. Okay. I won’t.” Fitz spoke quickly. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Whatever you need me to say.”

“Tell me that I mean something to you. That we’re okay.” Jemma leaned her head on his shoulder, and this time he flinched a little before letting her relax into him. 

“We’re okay.” Fitz let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her. “And you mean everything to me.” 

  
  



End file.
